Tumbleweeds
by BlackRose108
Summary: A collection of short stories/oneshots in and out of the HTTYD and "Riders of Berk" canon. Character studies, AU's, alternative/missing scenes, etc. Pairings inside. CHAPTER 4 UP!
1. HiccupToothless: Falling For You

**I actually have a lot of short little stories for HTTYD, but they mostly get published on my Tumblr account. So publishing them here is a good way to keep cleaner track of them. **

**Some are very short, some a very long, some continue in more than one part. Some are about Hiccup and Toothless (not romantically though…I'm not into that), others Hiccup and Astrid (I am into that romantically), and some are about the other teenagers. A lot of these will be based on head canons, some AU's, and perhaps a preview of ideas I'm working on.**

**This story in particular is taken from episode 108 of "Riders of Berk" when Hiccup fell in the cave and Toothless went off after him. **

**It's just a dumping place, really. But still, feel free to enjoy my weeds from Tumblr!**

Hiccup and Toothless — "Falling for You"

Hiccup heard Astrid scream his name as the ground beneath him broke apart. Scrambling for solid foundation he stumbled too slowly and all he was wrapped in was familiarity. Yet not the kind he would've liked.

Hiccup never really knew what happened the day he fought the Green Death after he was knocked out. He remembered heat, he remembered thinking he was going to die….and he remembered falling.

Hiccup had never been too fond of falling at that point. The first time he'd fell off Toothless he'd nearly spilt his lunch once he stepped foot on solid ground. But falling after he'd fought the Green Death was different. The heat he felt was death warmed over, and it was encompassing him slowly until all of sudden, he felt safe again.

He later found out that it was Toothless who had saved him, wrapped him in his wings and held on tight to assure he wouldn't burn. And that he fell from hundreds of feet in the air and somehow survived with only a missing limb and not a lost soul.

The familiarity of falling in the caves of the treasure hunt struck a frantic beat in his heart. His stomach began to churn through the ripping winds as he saw Astrid's panic stricken face while he fell further down. She began to leave his vision, and more rocks filled them.

Hiccup stopped screaming, his reflexes adjusting to a familiar fated feeling. Falling was something he and Toothless did all the time at that point. But he had known the dragon was going to catch him, it was the only thing letting him enjoy the sensation. The wind through his hair and ripping passed his eyes, the gentle light as air feeling he felt as he tumbled down.

And then he heard a roar. His eyes opened and the darkness around him made it hard to see…but he knew those piercing eyes anywhere.

He should've known.

He reached out desperately for Toothless, his eyes pathetic and he didn't even care. Toothless sped down towards him, spotting his friend and his claws gently took both of his sides, pulling Hiccup close to his body.

Hiccup welcomed the warmth and the savior, gripping close to Toothless while the dragon closed his wings around him yet again.

Familiar….

The impact of the fall rumbled Hiccup, he hadn't been conscious for it when they fought the Green Death, bit this time it left a sting through his spine that felt so shocking he thought his bones would break.

He was ripped away slightly from Toothless, the dragon's claws losing grip. But his wing was heavy as he paused Hiccup from rolling away, pinning him to the ground and keeping him there as the rocks bunched around them.

And then it got quiet….

Hiccup looked up, seeing nothing but black yet feeling warmth. He touched the roof of his encasement and felt a smooth wing atop him. Toothless's wing. And he smiled.

"Thanks bud…"

**Since I have a lot archived already another will be up extremely soon!**


	2. HiccupAstrid: Hair Dying

**Every two days for an update? Maybe once a week? I'll see what works better. But I do want this to be updated rather frequently. **

**Anyways, this is a "missing scene" from episode 111 (Heather Report, Part 2). Since it seemed only Hiccup knew about Astrid disguising as Heather I'm guessing he helped her put her disguise together. Plus that actual apology that episode lacked. **

Hiccup and Astrid — Hair Dying

"Just for the record, I have no idea what I'm doing." Hiccup told Astrid as she sat down In his room. They had spent the majority of the afternoon making a replica of Heather's outfit and now it was time for the finale piece of the puzzle.

Astrid's hair.

Certainly no outcast would believe that Heather would go to Berk for a week and come back with blond hair. Luckily, Gobber had a huge stash of powered, gelled, and crystallized minerals that could double for hair dye in the European areas. Hiccup dipped a finger in one of jars of black powder. The substance felt cool, damp, and grainy. He looked up at Astrid with uncertainty.

"Um, are you sure this is going to work?" He rubbed his fingers together.

"Will you just put this stuff on my hair and get it over with. We only have a few hours until I have to get going." Astrid rolled her eyes and untangled the last knot of her braid. She hadn't unbraided her hair in days, and her hair was starting to clump together. But she was sure Hiccup's room didn't have a comb and they would waste time waiting for her to get one.

As her hair fell over her shoulders Hiccup's mouth ran dry, but he didn't provide a response just yet and he placed all four of his finger in the jar and ran them onto Astrid's hair. It left a black scar-like mark on her sun-colored hair and he winced.

"Um…" he stammered again.

"Just do it, Hiccup." Astrid tapped her finger on her knee, growing impatient and nervous. "Before I change my mind."

He quickly dipped again and continued a little quicker. He winced every time he applied more to her hair but otherwise continued to work.

Silence lingered between them. Only the hitching of Hiccup's breath and Astrid's nervous finger drumming and swallows.

"So…tell me the plan again." Hiccup finally broke the silence when he was halfway done.

Astrid rolled her eyes again. She must've went over the plan with him ten times while they were making her outfit. "I go to Outcast Island dressed as Heather, you and the others fly there and wait for me to come back with the book…we go home." She gave him the short version, feeling going into detail for the tenth time was unnecessary. Hiccup stopped and walked a bit to her side to look at her.

"Hiccup." Astrid sighed.

"I just don't feel like this is a good idea to send you in there alone. Alvin already tried to capture you once, and who knows what he'll do on his own turf."

"That's a risk we're going to have to take if we want to get the book back." Astrid said robotically.

"A risk _you're_ going to have to take, Astrid." Hiccup sighed and put down the jar for a second before walking in front of her; his eyes serious. "This isn't even your fight. It's…." he swallowed. "It's my fault the book was taken because I wouldn't listen to you."

Astrid swallowed as well. In the past week it had almost seemed like her and Hiccup were forcing themselves to be normal, forcing their friendship not to falter because of a misunderstanding. Their bond—whatever it was—was much stronger than that.

But hearing him bring it up sent and unsettling chill down her spine. Whatever had lied dormant within her was bubbling up into Astrid's throat, and it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Hiccup watched the emotions dance across Astrid's face and his eyes twitched in apprehension. He knew he should've apologized days ago, but something within him told him that it was better to forget and ignore than to bring it up.

They locked eyes, and the unsettled feeling continued for both of them.

"I'm sorry, Astrid." Hiccup said suddenly and he looked away immediately after uttering it.

Astrid's breath hitched and she continued to stare at Hiccup while he darted his eyes every which way but at her. She almost glared at him, but stopped herself.

"Don't be…." She finally rested on, even surprising herself. "Just…let's get my hair finished. It's still getting late."

"Yeah…." Hiccup still didn't meet her gaze as he grabbed the jar and went back to applying it to her hair, a little more carefully than before but he still managed to finish after another half hour of diligent work and awkward silence.

Without a word, Hiccup walked over to the chest near his bed and pulled out a small shark bone comb and brought it over to her hair. Astrid's eyes widened as she realized he actually did have a comb in his room. She almost smiled to herself…no wonder his hair was always less messy than Snotlout's or Tuffnut's.

It felt kind of nice having his hands and the comb running through her hair and Astrid immediately closed her eyes, humming in contentment beyond her own will apparently, but Hiccup was still silent. With clumsy fingers he pulled a large portion of her hair to the left of her and began to braid it. Hiccup wasn't the best at braiding, but he could figure it out. Besides, his fingers were already messed with the black powder, while Astrid's weren't.

"Alright," Astrid stood as soon as Hiccup bound off her braid and whipped her bangs out of her eyes only to have them fall back as always. "I'm ready."

"No…you're not." Hiccup shook his head and with breathed laughed. "Your bangs, Astrid." He pointed to them, while now black, they were still her signature. He raised the comb up and moved towards her. "Hold still."

He combed back her bangs, tucking them into her hair and applied just a tad more dampened powder to make the short crops of hair stick together. "That should hold for good while." He smiled to himself, proud of his work and placed the jar and comb down.

He looked over at the bed where the replica of Heather's garments laid and back at Astrid. "Well…I should go round up the others on the beach and tell them the new plan…it's almost sundown."

"Y-yeah…." Astrid's eyes darted this time, smoothing some of the loose hair on her right side behind her ear. At that waviness of her hair on the side of her face would take some getting used to, but the way Hiccup kept glancing over at her helped her feel confident that her hair was convincing enough.

She couldn't tell if Hiccup was still enamored with Heather or not…but whatever it was about her all the guys found her attractive, and Hiccup was no exception.

Hiccup passed her but stopped on the first step, turning back to look at her.

"You…" he started, catching her attention before continuing. "You look nice Astrid." He told her.

Astrid rolled her eyes. "Psh…why? Because I look like Heather?" Her tone was bitter as she crossed her arms and she wished she hadn't reacted in such a way, but it was already so heavily engrained in her.

But Hiccup only smiled and shook his head. "No." He turned away, heading down the stairs as he uttered his next sentence. "Because you finally have the hair out of your eyes…"

Even though his back was turned to her, Astrid knew that Hiccup could tell she was grinning like an idiot at that point. She tried hard to regress it, but after she heard the door close and she was alone in Hiccup's room with nothing but her new hair and a set of replica clothes, she didn't even bother to hide her blushing grin.

**I have some stories about the twins I'm probably going to put here next. And of course if anyone has request, I'll do them as well. **


	3. RuffnutTuffnut: Nightmares and Darkness

**So since the twins are so undeveloped I have way to many headcanons about these two. They're mostly portrayed as kind of one dimensional comic relief characters…but everyone's human. Though I'm sure most of Ruffnut and Tuffnut's affectionate sides take place towards each other in private. **

**Since Viking houses aren't huge, I'd imagine Ruffnut and Tuffnut still share a room even though they're older. **

**We all know from the show that Tuffnut's afraid of the dark, so I kind of think that he can only sleep when Ruffnut's in the room. And I like playing around the idea of Ruffnut having frequent nightmares. **

Ruffnut — Nightmares

Sometimes it was the same nightmare over and over. Other times it was a nightmare that lasted days at a time. And sometimes…no matter how hard she tried Ruffnut just couldn't get to sleep out of fear of having another nightmare.

She was 17 now, much too old for nightmares and losing sleep because of fear. She was a Viking! Vikings wouldn't let silly nightmares control them….

…and yet her eyes stayed open. Bloodshot and too terrified to close.

"Ah!" She screamed and jolted up. Thrilled sleep had finally found her much too late in the night yet saddened that she had, yet again, been awakened. She panted heavily, placing a hand against her chest and tried to calm her thumping heart. But soon she felt another hand on her shoulder that came out of the darkness of the room like it always did. Only this hand didn't scare her. In fact, feeling it on her shoulder was already making her feel better.

"Hey, you alright sis?" Tuffnut asked quietly. She could tell by his voice that he wasn't fully awake, but this routine wasn't new to him. Ruffnut being up in the middle of the night due to a nightmare was nothing new. It was their little secret , of course.

"Same as usual." Ruffnut let out a shaky breath.

"Was it the freefalling nightmare, or the one where you're stuck in that box filled with everyone's blood?"

"A new one." Ruffnut sighed, but offered no more information. Tuffnut understood, though, and sat next to her in her bed, placing an arm around her which she happily leaned into.

He yawned, obnoxiously. "Well, it's late. You think you'll be able to get back to sleep?"

"Can you stay with me?" Ruffnut asked. Tuffnut regarded her with the same quizzical look he always did when she requested this, but she never asked that unless she was truly terrified and she knew Tuffnut has his own nightly fears as well.

A completely vulnerable look sank into her eyes, something that Tuffnut was sure only he had seen and he smiled.

"Sure." He kicked his legs up into her bed. "But you've gotta make room, so scoot your big butt over."

"At least my butt doesn't smell like Astrid's Yaknog." Ruffnut teased as well, but still scooted over regardless. The twins turned over on their respectable sides, but placed their backs against each others.

And Ruffnut smiled.

Tuffnut might've snored, his breath might've stunk, and his legs might've kicked around too much in his sleep. But he was the only thing that really helped her sleep at night.

0o0

Tuffnut — Darkness

There wasn't one part of the situation Tuffnut liked.

Ruffnut had gone out on a date that night….and she still hadn't made it home.

Granted, it wasn't too late in the night, but it was later than Tuffnut would've liked, and he was rather tired.

He just sat up in his bed within the room he shared with his sister, a single candle burning dimly to chase away the shadows crawling in from the night and his toes wiggling in agitation.

Why wasn't she home yet? He was tired of waiting!

It was two hours later when Ruffnut finally tip-toed inside their room, but Tuffnut was still awake.

"You dork, what are you still up for?"

"Why are you coming home this late?" Tuffnut countered instead, his eyes darting. He wouldn't dare say why he was really awake unless he really had to, even if Ruffnut did know his fears.

"Doing whatever I please because you're not the boss of me, that's what." Ruffnut rolled her eyes. "You can't lose sleep every time I go on a date you know. You've gotta try and sleep on your own eventually."

"Psh." Was all Tuffnut grumbled but even as Ruffnut pulled the curtain around her changing area and got into her sleeping tunic he still didn't go to sleep. The candle continued to burn; wax forming a slow river in the dish.

"Okay, seriously, you're still awake?" Ruffnut asked again, climbing into her bed. "You want me to braid your hair and tell you all about my date?" She joked.

"Ugh, no!" Tuffnut shook his head. "Just…" he stared at her, his face becoming serious. No, he couldn't reiterate that he couldn't sleep unless she was in there due to his fear of being alone in the dark…no he definitely wouldn't say that.

But this his mind flickered to the previous night. At how even though the dark scared him, when Ruffnut was having nightmares none of that particularly mattered.

"Think…good thoughts tonight, okay?" Was what he landed on saying. He took the candle next to his nightstand and blew it out.

"Good thoughts?" Ruffnut muttered to herself. She knew Tuffnut was referring to her nightmares, and probably bypassing admitting that he was yet again afraid of the dark. But it just wasn't something he normally said. "Tuffnut what-?" she began to ask, figuring he was still awake, but instead all she heard was snoring.

"You stay up all night and then fall right asleep as soon as I come in…just to avoid being in the dark?" Ruffnut said quietly to herself. Smiling a little inwardly at the not-so-new realization that he couldn't sleep unless she was there.

"You dork…"

**I love writing softer moment for the twins. They definitely need more of these in the show. Hopefully the "Twinsanity" episode on the 30****th**** will provide such. **

**And, I just realized I haven't been answering reviews and I usually do…so….**

**Review Responses:**

**RizReviewer: Sure! Not sure whether I place during pre-movie or during Riders of Berk. We'll see!**

**Tasermon's Partner: Thank you! I saw that people kind of liked the one about Astrid's disguise on tumblr as well. It was one of the stories that I was going to publish alone, but then I thought to just post all the oneshots I make on there. And there were plenty more plotholes I could write for in that episode. But that was the biggest one for me.**

**Haydeandjackieforever20: Hmmm, I might be able to do something like that. In the currently timeline it's waaaaay too early for them be all "oh, I love you", but I guess something along those lines in a future setting could work. **

**Brdwygrl18: You're welcome! And I was trying to stay kind of more realistically to the show. I can't see them dragging out any kind of apology between them and making it all sappy, but I was expecting it to at least be there. Which it wasn't. And no Astrid in episode 113 didn't bother as much as episode 111's problems did, but yeah I could write something like that. **

**Drawolftiger: Thank you! And hey, haven't seen you in a while!**

**Waffles: Thank you! I'm glad you like this as much as Dr. Who. **

**Thanks for the reviews everyone!**

**I'm probably going to make a story highlighting each dragon/rider pair's relationship next. I'm not sure whether I'll have it be one chapter with 5 parts, or just 5 separate chapters. But after that I'll probably start writing the requests. And then I have a short 2 or 3 part story about Hiccup and Toothless. **


	4. FishlegsMeatlug: Better than Nothing

**There's not enough Fishlegs angst in this fandom, so I shamelessly made some. **

**Since I feel like Hiccup and Fishlegs are around the same age, when they were both born they were both runts, but Hiccup was a bit smaller so he got the 'Hiccup' tag. I can see Fishlegs's mother being kind of like "oh no, not my son," so she just feeds him to keep him big and strong looking to avoiding having an 'embarrassment' of a son like Hiccup.**

**And I don't know, there seem to be a lot of hints that Fishlegs has a kind of weirdly depressing life at home, that would explain his rant about the cold world turning it's shoulder towards him in episode 7, and his "my mom says I'm just husky" comment in episode 2. BUT, I'm probably reading too much into it. Still, until the show provides a better back story, I'm just gonna go with this!**

**Enjoy!**

Fishlegs and Meatlug — Better than Nothing

Fishlegs' mother always had one motto when it came to Fishlegs….he was "better than nothing". In the Hooligan Tribe only the strong belonged, and Fishlegs was, without a doubt, big enough to seem strong. It was his one pride and his only pride as far as the Ingerman clan was concerned.

Fishlegs might not have been the fastest, the most accurate, or even—ironically—the strongest, but one look at him and you'd think he was. He looked big and strong, and it was just enough for a pass-off to pride.

When he was born around the same time as Hiccup, Fishlegs was right above him, so he avoided receiving the shameful name 'Hiccup'….not that Fishlegs was too flattering either. So, his mother went for the root of the problem. Her boy was different, two steps away from being a runt, and never would she even accept a boy as gangly as Stoick's son.

So…she fed him, and fed him, and fed him, and fed him. Soon Fishlegs seemed more of an odd pick. Little skimpy legs still remained, but a stocky body was now built atop. He still had a brain filled with large words rather than a large ego, dragon facts rather than dragon killing tactics, and generally a rather nerdy disposition. But he was big so, as his mother's motto went, he was "better than nothing".

Meatlug curled up aside Fishlegs' bed, chomping down the rest of her dinner as she looked at Fishlegs, who had finished his second plate that night.

"Fishlegs!" His mother called, Inga Ingerman was a rather cheerful woman at first glance. And even as her son, Fishlegs rarely saw her break her pleasant attitude. But he knew the acid that boiled beneath the sugar pool, how her hurtful words would be delivered with such a smile, and her forceful outlooks always raining the acid that boiled.

She placed another plate—a third—down on his bed, still smiling. "Another plate, dear."

Fishlegs stared down at it, as he did every night. Two plates was more than enough, but always the third….always enough so that growing and staying big and strong was always the option.

"Don't just stare at it, Fishlegs, eat it." Inga still smiled, but her cupped hands were beginning to ball, clutching tightly onto her dress. Her teeth a little too grinding.

"I'm not hungry." Fishlegs whined.

"Oh, Fishlegs you know you've been growing lately, you don't want to thin out, do you?"

"But I told you I'm full tonight, Mom. I don't want another plate, I just feel….fat"

"Oh son, I keep telling you you're not fat, you're—"

"Husky, I know." Fishlegs finished for her.

"If you thin out you'll be a tall gangly mess, like your friend Hiccup. Do you want to be a runt?" The words flew out so sweetly, so 'in his best interest', but Fishlegs felt the acid burning through his skin.

"Hiccup's a hero, Mom." Fishlegs clearly countered, he was tired of the 'do you want to be like Hiccup?' tactic, especially after he saved the whole village.

"Do you want to be a tall, gangly mess, dear?" Inga reverted back to, her smile still remaining but the front of her dress wrinkled beyond belief from her nerves…her anger.

Fishlegs sighed. Conversations such as these could go on for hours, the food would be ice cold and still she'd call it necessary nourishment. Instead he picked up the plate, sniffed in the steam that made his full stomach churn, and forced a smile.

"Smells great, Mom, I suppose I'll have one more plate."

The wrinkles fell, and her smile stopped grinding.

"Good dear." She took off his helmet and smoothed out his hair before leaving in a swaying joy. She had once again gotten her way…..or so she thought.

Meatlug was such a wonderful new addition to Fishleg's life, a best friend beyond any friend he had ever received. Meatlug could sense the problem with Inga just after a few days of living in the Ingerman home, and ever since then, when Inga would leave, and the third plate of food sat steaming and unconsumed, Meatlug would eat it. One giant bite would do the trick, even though she had eaten her fill in rocks, and meaty food wasn't her preferred meal, she'd gobble the food without a second thought.

This night was no different.

Fishlegs barely had time to really tell her no, she would be eat it of her own will.

"Meatlug, no, not tonight." Fishlegs sighed a bit, and moved the plate away. Meatlug looked up, confused at her rider's intentions. "I know you usually do, girl, but doesn't that make me just like her?"

Meatlug was still confused.

"I'm just letting you eat more than you want to eat, and you don't even like this kind of food….every night…"

Meatlug simply got up and rustled a bit over towards Fishlegs, nudging the hand he placed near the food affectionately. Fishlegs smiled, he knew beyond anything, Meatlug would eat his food because she wanted to help, not because Fishlegs was forcing her. But it still left a bad feeling in his stomach.

Though he didn't have much time to even digest the matter any further, for a one quick bite of the food was taken and just like that Meatlug had completed Fishleg's third plate.

The arrangement was unsettling, deceitful, and Meatlug really didn't care for eating the food. But if it was in the interest of not seeing Fishlegs fall asleep moaning because he was too full, or seeing him throw it all up later, she'd eat anything.

Fishlegs knew that as well, and although it made him smile in gratitude he still didn't like it. He didn't like the whole situation. But at least it was better now than it was before Meatlug, and he sighed again. His mother's motto always creeping up on him….

At least it was better than nothing….

**Fishy angst for you teenage or adult souls. Eat it up!**

**Review Responses:**

**RizReviewer: Thank you! And ugh, I know, I can't stand twincest either. I don't know why people just can't seem to write sibling moments, especially brother/sister moments, without breaking the incest barrier. **

**Drawolftiger: Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! And yeah, I'm probably making things a bit darker, but then happy faces can always frown, so I figure everyone has their little moments of fears. The twins, I suspect, have a pretty good home life, but they've got nighttime fears going on so….XD**

**Stratoc: Thank you! I'm so used to writing big, long chapters I forget how nice it is to just sit down and type out a 700-1000 word oneshot as well! And yay! I'm glad you see it that way, cause that's exactly what I'm going for in these. And I'm trying to update at least twice a week with this, since these stories are so much shorter and I already have a lot on archive, I can update quicker than, say, "A VikingPunk Tale". **

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**I'm thinking of a Astrid/Stormfly centric story next, I've got quite a perception of those two.**


	5. Dagur: Blood Right

**Wow, it's been a while. **

**Needless—or perhaps needed?—to say, I've been going through a personal crisis and it just stalled my writing, but I get bored…and thus this twisted mess of writing was born. It wasn't what I said I was gonna do for the next chapter, but it just sorta happened...**

**So, I love Dagur's character. His back story, his delightfully deranged psychotic-ness, he's a hilariously threatening character. And I'm interested in the many implications that he actually killed his father that were just all over the place in episode 15. So…I wrote this completely messed up story about it.**

**I'm just gonna go ahead and say sorry…I usually don't write stuff this twisted, but Dagur will do that to you, I guess.**

Dagur - Blood Right

Dagur loved to listen in awe at the savagery of his ancestors.

His great-great grandfathers all drenched in the blood of their enemies. It was a custom, common place to settle your differences with the end of your blade. There was no honor in a man who didn't value his own life enough to protect it…even if it meant ending others.

Those were the stories Dagur grew up on…yet not the house he lived in.

His grandfather started it. A Viking who shouldn't have been able to call himself such. He was a coward, plunged the Berserker tribe into a embarrassing era. Peace and agreement, non violence and common ground.

It made him sick…

His father was a short man, yet in his younger days had had his own hands stained red. He had always told Dagur at even such a young age after his grandfather died that he would avenge the Berserker name…he would bring them back to their rightful state. Dagur admired his father…up until Dagur's mother was met with the untimely fate of death by revenge.

An enemy of Oswald the Obscene took to the Berserker Chieftain home…He came with a clean blade…yet died with it stained in Dagur's mother's blood.

That was Oswald's last kill—killing the man who killed his wife—and was the night Dagur saw his father fall to his knees and cry at the corpse of his mother.

His father…was weak.

Oswald the Obscene was a new man after the death of his wife. Wars and forceful actions scared him, he thought they would only result in another death of his most precious person…his son. He had turned into his grandfather…the very man he tried to clean up after, and he had become him.

His father…was a coward.

Dagur wanted no word of it. His ancestors were powerful, they were feared, respected. They knew how to rule a tribe and get what they wanted. Dagur liked the sound of that. He liked having the high of power pumping his blood through his body, the feeling of total conquer he felt every time, as he grew, he slain another dragon, all their stuffed heads filling his wall.

He wanted a life of power, of ale tankers filled with the blood of his enemies. No one would dare challenge him…he'd be unstoppable.

But his father…he was turning the once great and feared Berserker tribe into a cowardice spot in the middle of the ocean. A murderous Viking tribe once led by the great Oswald the Obscene…now lead by Oswald the Agreeable. They had not been to war in 50 years thanks to his father and grandfather. And it made Dagur ache with embarrassment and pure anger.

"You…you lost your mother, too?" Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third spoke up, his voice a bit timid as it always was when he was upon Dagur. For once Hooligan Tribe chief Stoick told both boys to go off and have fun while the "men" talked. Dagur almost chuckled…as if his father was a man. A man who had refused to sign the treaty in dragon's blood…

But this boy, Hiccup, he was even more disappointing. What kind of chief's son was he? So skinny and whimpy? He was surprised dragons hadn't just carried him off.

"Yeah, so." Dagur shrugged. "I barely knew my mother. I was young when she died."

"Don't you miss her…?"

Dagur looked over at the skimp of the little boy, his eyes were wet…crying. He had lost his mother at a young age as well…but to cry over it…? It was a weak display of emotion, a Viking should never shed a tear.

But he didn't answer. Did he miss his mother…? Her bedtime stories or the shiny collection of knives she helped him build…?

"Don't ask me stupid questions like that." Dagur snuffed. "My mother is dead….why would I miss her?" And pushed Hiccup down. He was just a twig in the wind…the wind would've knocked him down soon if Dagur hadn't.

0o0

By age fifteen Dagur was more than fit for battle. A warrior with no war was a pitiful sight. He sat in the heir's seat during council of elder's meetings, was at his father's side during every yearly visit to the neighboring islands. A perfect son, skilled with sword, axe, dagger, spear….yet no outlet. No way to quench his instinctual thirst for blood.

His father was all treaties of peace…the tribes didn't even respect him enough to see him as a threat. He thought there was no war because of the treaties…there was no war because no one saw the Berserkers as a threat….

"The peace treaty with the Shivering Shores needs to be signed, son." Oswald said. "Come here before the ink of the quill dries."

Dagur scoffed. "The Shivering Shore's chief called you a coward, father," he pointed out, grunting his teeth as he said so.

"Yes son…" Oswald scribbled a few more things down on the treaty.

"I've also heard a few conspiracy plots among the tribe to overthrow you."

Oswald's quill stopped, and he looked up at Dagur.

"And…?"

Dagur felt a fire boil in him. _And_!? That's all the great Berserker chief Oswald the Obscene had to say about insults and treacherous plots?

"Now stop your talk of all that and sign the treaty, Dagur." Oswald said calmly.

All respect flew away that day. Dagur ran out into the forest, thrashing his sword at every living thing he encountered out in the woods. He had drops of blood on his face, and his sword dripped with it. And power he could obtain from another life…he _needed _it.

He made it to the livestock as he walked back. The chickens were loose among the pasture…and he took to his sword again. He just wanted to hear screams of fear…to feel that power his ancestors spoke so highly of. It must've been nice…and he wanted to _feel it_.

"Leave that chicken alone, Dagur!" Oswald called out, grabbing his son's sword and flinging it in the grass behind him. "What in Thor's name is wrong with you!?"

Dagur only panted, his hair was wild, eyes bugged, face and hands covered in animal and dragon's blood. It felt…good.

"You've gone mad, my son." Oswald sighed. "Please stop this, for your own good."

But he didn't listen. He couldn't listen.

0o0

Those next 3 and a half years were Hel.

Dagur's weapons were taken, his room chained and barred. His existence was a prison, his reputation a wild child with a thirst for blood. Dagur…the deranged son of Oswald.

People who came to visit the chief's house saw Dagur chained in the corner while he ate his food, they all backed away, looked at him like he was a wild dragon, his temper was something to be feared…they feared him.

He could only smile. He knew the whispers of overthrowing the chief were still circulating the tribe even years later. Everyone had seen how far the tribe had fallen, their reputation as Vikings shot…the public wanted what he did. His father was just too cowardly to see it.

There was a fateful night, Dagur's last test of his father's worth….if he fail Odin show mercy on his father's pitiful soul.

"Dad…" Dagur called out, his hands bound behind him, head hanging down at his knees tender from sitting on them all day, but his determination coursed through him, and was enough to keep his limbs from jelling.

"Yes son, what is it?" Oswald came up, worry in his voice…so trusting…so weak.

"I'm sorry, Dad." Dagur said, the words would've tasted bitter in his mouth, but he knew the context of them…

He saw his father smile, it took no other words for Oswald the "Agreeable" to open the bars of his room and hug his chained up son.

"Oh son," Oswald breathed. "I'm so happy to hear you say that."

Dagur wore a tight frown. He was crazy, he was "dangerous" yet his father exhibited such trust. Open trust was something that destroyed a man, naivety killed off nations, compassion inhibited the powerful. His father was weak…and only the strong could belong.

"Please Dad," Dagur still strained, his sugared words only coming out bitter. "Unchain me…"

"Of course son." Oswald only left a short while before coming back with a key. He unbound the chains locked hind Dagur's back. "I'm sorry I had to chain you, I was worried you'd hurt yourself or someone else…"

"I understand." Dagur almost laughed. He understood that his father was a weakling. "And I am sorry…"

There was an axe mounted on the wall, he stood on his feet, the weight on them felt good, his hands shook but the power filled his blood. He _had _to do this…the future of the Berserker tribe depended on it.

His frown turned up into a smile..though it wasn't for jolly. Oswald seemed to sense this, and gulped.

"Dagur…?"

"I'm so sorry father…" Dagur laughed, jesting cruelly. He took two big and slow steps over to the wall, grabbing the lone weapon left in the house, it was his father's old axe, and Dagur almost felt sorry for his weaker kin…he kept that axe for sentimental value…ironic how it would cause his end.

Oswald's eyes jus widened. "Son, you…you wouldn't."

"You're weak…you've embarrassed the family name…this tribe…you and grandfather. You said you'd bring this tribe back into a good light, but you've failed."

"There's more to life than killing, Dagur, believe me!" Oswald backed into the corner, sweat sullying his brow and fear in his every shaken breath.

Dagur inhaled…his fear, this power he gained from it. It felt good.

"I wish I could…father…." He raised his hand, the axe shining in the moonlight.

"Put down that axe, Dagur!"

0o0

It was a day later when one of the elders of the council came into the chief's home…finding Dagur kneeled by a body covered with a blanket. A pool of blood dried into the floor, and spots of it dried and crusted on Dagur's face.

"Dagur…what have you done?" He asked but Dagur was silent.

His father's scream, his gasping, his dying words begging his son to not become murderous. Dagur was numb from it all. In some ways, he didn't believe himself. He had a birthright to inherit the tribe…and now he realized he just had.

That's what he wanted…right?

He looked down at the stained blanket..his father's body still as it had been all day…all night…at his own doing.

He had killed his own father.

Dagur felt sick to his stomach, his insides rebelling against him as his throat burned with a whimper, eyes stinging with salt water.

"F-father…" Dagur mumbled, and clenched his fingers to the damp wood of the floor. A tear wet his lashes, mixed with the small stain of blood right under his eye and he paused.

He remembered how disgusted he was when he saw his father cry over his mother's dead body, hunched over and weak…

He was his father…

He _wouldn't _be his father…Not if he could help it.

Blinking rapidly he opened his eyes fully. "Don't act like this wasn't necessary." Dagur turned to the elder at the door, his eyes wide in crazy again. "I know about the coup that's been brewing for years, to overthrow my father."

The elder gulped. "Well…um….well."

Dagur let out a laugh, standing nonchalantly. He pulled back the blanket from his father just enough to grab his helmet and placed it on his head. It was too big for him…but he'd have it altered. He took his axe with him as he walked towards the door, dragging it across the floor so it creating a chilling scratch of a sound. The elder stood motionless, looking terrified.

Yes…it felt good.

"My father is no more…so I will inherit my birthright to this tribe as the only son of Oswald." He took his axe up a bit more forcefully. "Do you have anything to say about it?"

"N-no…Chief Dagur."

"Good." Dagur walked by the elder, patting his shoulder almost affectionately. "Don't worry…I'll bring this tribe back where it belongs….don't you worry…"

And out into the moonlight he walked. Who knew where he was going…but he walked. Bloodstained face, bloodstained axe, the too-big helmet of his dead father on his head, and uttering the most deranged laugh the Berserker tribe had heard out into the horizon of the moon….

**Most likely the next chapter will be happier...still working on Astrid/Stormfly so hopefully that'll be next.**

**Review Responses:**

**Stratoc: Thank you! I honestly don't know where they come from either...if I knew I'd be able to share the secret. Still, I'm glad you liked it. **

**RizReviewer: Haha, well he might not have one...just my speculation based on a few hints. And Sorry about Astrid/Stormfly not being next..they're coming up soon though!**

**drawolftiger: Thank you! I'm glad you like it.**

**Ferdoos: Hmm, that's a choice, I might do that a few chapters down, cause that was something that slightly irked me about the episode. **

**Kyrinea: Thank you! And I finally updated, I know it was a bit of a wait.**

**Thanks for the reviews even after a long wait!**


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